Trash Talk
by Teobi
Summary: Or, 'How I learned to sculpt a tree while my oldest brother did all the work.' Virgil and Scott conversation after the events of S03E22, 'Buried Treasure'. Contains spoilers.


**Trash Talk**

(Spoilers for Buried Treasure)

"So. You're into topiary now, huh?"

The sound of his elder brother's voice, unnecessarily jaunty, jangled Virgil's nerves. He tensed as Scott leapt over the back of the couch and landed with a soft whump next to him.

"That was a pretty cute Thunderbird Two you made."

Virgil grunted. "WAS."

Scott put his hand on Virgil's shoulder and gave him a comforting shake. "You know I'm truly sorry about that, Virgil, but we didn't have much of a choice. The WRM was about to make scraps out of Scraps and trash out of Tracys. People are more important than trees, right?" Scott couldn't resist a chuckle. "Even pretty ones like yours."

Virgil shrugged off his brother's hand. "I don't think you know how hard it is to make something out of a... a tree!"

"Like wood?" Scott looked around the room, his eyes resting on the highly polished floor. "This place is full of it."

Virgil didn't need to look at Scott to know that he was biting back an insufferable smirk. "You have no artistic appreciation whatsoever. You're nothing but a steak eating heathen."

"A steak eating heathen who nearly got thrown off the Dragonfly into the jaws of a WRM while Gordon and Scraps swooned over an old telephone and you gave a tree a haircut." Scott removed his hand from Virgil's shoulder and stretched his arms out, yawning loudly. "Sometimes I feel like the only one who does any work around here."

A snort of derision bubbled in Virgil's chest. "Sometimes I feel like the only one with any sense around here." The memory of Topiary Two's sad demise resurfaced in all its leafy horror and he turned at the waist to glare at Scott. "Just why are you so reckless? You're meant to be the one in charge. Da- " Virgil stopped.

Scott raised an eyebrow. A micro moment hung in the air, brittle as the thin ice Virgil was treading. The younger Tracy knew he'd gone too far, but he'd loved that little topiary and now it was gone. No one could ever have nice things in this family. He waited nervously for Scott to speak. When he did, the casual tone of his voice could barely contain his apprehension.

"I know what you were going to say."

Virgil shook his head. "No you don't."

"Virgil, it's written all over your face. 'Dad would never'. But I think he would. You're always saying I'm just like him. Dad would have done everything I did, only he'd be in the pilot seat instead of Gordon, not holding on for dear life on the roof. I swear that kid was trying to kill me. Have you seen the look of ambition in his eyes lately?" Scott squinted menacingly and Virgil conceded with gratitude. Scott had quickly broken the tension with the ease of a man who'd had plenty of practice.

"Okay, when Dad comes back we'll prove it." Virgil held out his hand- the hand that pruned a thousand leaves.

Scott slapped his palm against Virgil's, locking their hands together in the vice-like grip of brothers. "Done. You know I'm right."

Virgil laughed briefly, his shoulders unlocking. "That Stretcherman toy, or whatever it's called, is pretty cool. I'm glad you got it for me. Kinda relieves the stress, pulling that poor guy every which way." Virgil mimicked stretching a length of rubber in all directions, his face scrunched up like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

Scott's face lit up at the abrupt change of topic. "Oh my God, doesn't it though? I can't understand why Scraps and Gordon freaked out so much. I mean, what's the point of having a toy like that if you're never gonna play with it?" Scott mimicked ripping some valuable packaging to shreds. "Get that sucker out, I say."

"Spoken like a true heathen," Virgil said. "You know that toy was worth money, right? Looots of money. Just ask Gordo. I don't think he'll ever recover."

"It was a piece of junk at the bottom of a... a trash mine. And now it has a nice new home in your bedroom." Scott rubbed the back of his head. "I still can't believe I'd never heard of a trash mine. I must have had too much on my plate lately."

Virgil bit back an "ain't that the truth" and lightly punched Scott's upper arm. "You don't have to tell me your mind is elsewhere these days. But you know we can't rush Brains or the Mechanic."

"I just wish they'd hurry up."

"Scott. We're nearer now to getting Dad back than we've ever been. This is the time to use more caution, not less. We don't want to throw the whole mission off with one careless move." Virgil smiled warmly. "No one knows that more than you."

Scott sighed- he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "The closer we get, the more I'm gonna need that toy. I feel like I'm teetering on a knife edge with a bottomless pit on either side. If we mess up we lose Dad and I'd never forgive myself. I'll have let the whole family down."

Virgil leaned back, stroking his chin. He hated to see Scott out of his depth. Scott had been his rock growing up, although sometimes Virgil felt like he'd been Scott's rock ever since they lost their father. Seeing his brother staring into empty space disturbed Virgil but at the same time he didn't want to make a big deal about it. He fell silent, allowing the ideas to flow freely into his creative mind. Finally Virgil decided that Topiary Two's demise would not be in vain. No more sulking- the experience would be put to good use.

He stood up and faced Scott. "You know what would really beat the stress and take your mind off things?"

Scott glanced up with his quizzical blue eyes. "Besides that toy?"

"Mm-hmm."

Scott frowned. "Virg, I don't like that look on your face."

Virgil reached out his hand, chuckling at Scott's raised eyebrow of suspicion. "Come on big bro. I'm gonna teach you the fine art of topiary."

"Awww, Virg...!"

"And I know just the place for a beautiful topiary Thunderbird One. Riiight outside Gordon's window."

Scott launched himself off the sofa with all the speed of the aforementioned rocket plane and slung his arm around Virgil's muscular shoulders. "You know little bro, I think I might enjoy this topiary lark after all!"


End file.
